


Finding You

by xbenihime



Series: Finding You [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged Up!AU, F/M, Identity Reveal, Reunion, adult sexual themes, again I did a thing with scars, but no actual full on sex scene, i totally didn't expect that to happen again i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 03:12:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6267253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xbenihime/pseuds/xbenihime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the anniversary of his Lady's death, Adrien finds himself drinking until he can't see straight.</p><p>The only solace he finds is in the arms of his personal stylist. A certain raven-haired designer who often reminds him way too much of Ladybug. Reveal Fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding You

**Author's Note:**

> This turned into another scars fic. I'm not exactly sure how that happened, but it fit with the story I wanted to tell and I think adds to it :)
> 
> This is the longest oneshot I've ever written, but I'm really proud of it.

_Chat struggled against his restraints._

_His wrists were locked to the wall, forcing him onto his toes if he didn’t want to feel like his arms were going to fall off. The glowing pink circles were designed to cover his palm and individual fingers, rendering his ability to use Cataclysm useless. Blood dripped into his eyes from a large cut on his forehead, just above his right eyebrow, and he did his best to blink and clear his vision._

Dammit.

_His Lady stood on the other end of the atrium in front of Hawkmoth. The two seemed to dance back and forth, lunging and blocking—each trying to get the other’s Miraculous._

_Ladybug was exhausted, her left thigh was exposed with a nasty gash. She hadn’t expected the base of Hawkmoth’s staff to turn into a spear point, and she was doing her best to avoid it. He’d gotten a few good hits in though, and it was showing in her body language._

_Before he’d incapacitated Chat, Chat had landed a few attacks himself, even hearing a bone or two break. The sound of his Lady getting cut however, threw him off guard and allowed Hawkmoth to throw an akumatized butterfly at him, drawing on the previous power of Lady Wifi._

_He hadn’t been expecting that._

_The unluckier half of the duo looked around the room frantically for a way out to help his Lady. He couldn’t let her do this alone. They’d been looking for him for four years and he’d gotten stronger each time, and with how they were all growing exhausted, if it wasn’t two against one…_

_He didn’t want to think about it._

_He looked up to his wrist and yanked—trying once again to pull it free—but involuntarily snapped his head around and down when a_ squelch _reached his ears._

_“No,” he whispered._

_His Lady’s eyes were wide, staring at her opponent in horror as she froze in place._

_Hawkmoth’s staff was impaling her through the stomach._

_With another sickening sound, he pulled the stake back, allowing her to fall to her knees and drop her yoyo._

_Ladybug looked down, fingers coming up from her sides to cover the wound. Her already red suit began to turn an even darker shade as she fell onto her back, staring at the ceiling._

_“MY LADY!”_

_Chat screamed as Hawkmoth made his way over to Ladybug’s body, tossing his staff to one side and reaching in the direction of her earrings._

_No._

_With a bloodcurdling roar, Chat yanked at his hands again and got them free._

_Taking chunks of the wall with him._

_Launching himself across the room, Chat swung one of his brick covered wrists at the man, sending him flying away from his Lady to the other end of the atrium._

_Panting, hard, the blond took a fighting stance in front of his partner._

_“Don’t touch her,” he snarled._

_Hawkmoth frowned, “You think I’ve come this far just to let you—”_

_He didn’t let him finish._

_Chat was on him in a second, bringing fist after fist down on the man who had caused Paris so much pain. On the man who had played with his friends’ emotions countless times over the years. On the man who had just_ stabbed _the love of his life in the gut._

_He turned the man’s head to one side, ripped the miraculous from the base of his throat and spit the purple butterfly across the room. It wasn’t that kwami's fault that they’d fallen under the control of someone so violent, and as much as he’d love to crush it, that wasn’t his job._

_He watched as a pink light ran up the body of the man beneath him._

_Chat nearly choked._

_“Dad?”_

_Chat scrambled back and away in horror. Beaten, bloodied, and mangled he’d be surprised if anyone could tell who this was right now._

_But Adrien would recognize him anywhere._

_“Chat?”_

_Adrien’s head snapped over to the direction of his Lady, and he crawled over to her. Blood pooled beneath her and trickled from the corners of her mouth as she coughed._

_“Did you get him?” she asked, softly, swallowing._

_The blonde nodded, tears pooling in his eyes. “I got him.”_

_She let out a sigh of relief, “Good.”_

_Her eyes closed slowly, hand falling from her wound to the floor._

_Chat’s stomach sank as he bent over._

_With an ear pressed to the center of his Lady’s chest, Chat strained his hearing for the sound of her heart beating._

_Nothing._

_“My Lady?”_

_A glow emanated from her earrings as something similar to her lucky charm was activated. The streams of red Ladybugs rushed all around the room and out the window into the town, repairing all the damage caused and removing the locks from his wrists._

_“Ladybug?!”_

_Chat reached for her to pull her to him, but it was too late._

_The red had encircled her, and she was gone._

_Only her earrings remained._

_…_

Adrien woke up screaming.

As he often did.

His heart would race, tears would stream down his cheeks, and he would resist the urge to rip his chest open to pull out the godforsaken thing that kept killing him every time it beat.

Breathing hard, the blond rolled out of bed and fumbled around for his phone.

_12:30am._

Past midnight.

One year ago, today, he’d failed.

Resisting the urge to chuck the phone across his room, Adrien instead opted for pulling open his calendar. He had a shoot later on in the day that he and his designer had been planning for months. He hadn’t realized which day it would fall on though.

There was no fucking way that was happening. Not today.

He sent a text to Nathalie:

_I’m not doing the photoshoot later on today. Let her know._

Rummaging around on the floor, he grabbed a wrinkled shirt and pulled it on over his head. There was no way he was getting back to sleep normally after reliving that for the umpteenth time.

Making his way out front, Adrien basked in the cool night air as it soothed his heated skin. The nightmares always made him overheat, and the tears always made him itchy. He breathed in deep as his heart slowed.

It was all his fault.

He’d found a clue that lead them to Hawkmoth. He’d suggested they go after him themselves instead of getting help from the police because he’d felt it would be too dangerous. He was the one who charged in at him, and got himself locked up too fast where he couldn’t help her.

If he just hadn’t been so reckless and stupid…

When he’d been found by the police, he was a total wreck and refused to say anything. He’d remained in a catatonic state—no pun intended—as they asked him question after question with no response. They’d eventually given up on him, instead giving him a card with their number on it and telling him to call them with his statement as soon as possible.

When Nathalie had found him…she’d freaked out to say the least.

With a bloodied up superhero walking into the mansion of your boss, who wouldn’t have? She’d at first tried to get him to leave because he was intruding, but once Adrien had released the transformation, she went silent before demanding all the answers she could possibly get from him.

Which again, wasn’t much.

It was only days later she got the whole story when Gabriel was arrested and she was named the successor of his company. Though she was reluctant out of consideration for Adrien, the blond had eventually pushed her to accept the job and hire a few designers she knew would be good.

She’d even helped him with his statement and got it to the police.

Having Nathalie know, went better than he’d expected. Contrary to her last name, she was there and showed that she truly cared for him. Gorilla hadn’t said much, but the loyalty and sympathy he’d shown to Adrien by just being there whenever he needed him helped. He’d asked the two of them to stay in the house with him as employees…but if he was being honest…

It was because he would’ve been lonely and really liked having them around. Especially when it came time for him to give up his ring.

He couldn’t be Chat Noir, not after that. He’d said a tearful goodbye to Plagg who’d taken off with both his and Ladybug’s miraculouses. He’d assured Adrien that he’d get back to Mr. Fu safely and send him a sign that he’d made it.

Adrien had received a piece of Camembert cheese in the mail a month later.

His phone chimed then with an unread message from Nathalie. 

 _What was she doing up this late?_ She usually ended up going to bed around ten. Had he woken her up with his screaming?

Shaking his head, Adrien turned off his phone and shoved the thing into his pocket. He didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. Right now…

He wanted a way to get back to sleep.

He found himself wandering into a nearby pub. There weren't very many people there past midnight on a Wednesday, so when he took a seat at the bar it was only a few seconds before the bartender came over.

“What’ll it be?”

Adrien shrugged.

“The strongest thing you’ve got.”

The bartender nodded and shuffled away for a few minutes before returning with a pitch black liquid burning bright green fire. The flames licked a sugar cube resting on a metal spoon-like thing that had holes in it before he doused it with a shot of water.

“Black Absinthe,” he explained, pushing the glass toward him. “Over 70%.”

Adrien downed the thing in one go, relishing in the burn as it made its way down his throat into his stomach. The sheer intensity pricked at the backs of his eyes and he found himself letting out a little, ‘whew.’

But it drew his focus away from the ache in his chest.

It muddled the thoughts that swam in his head, telling him he was a mistake. Telling him that it should’ve been him that had died so Ladybug could still be here to save Paris. Telling him that without her, what was the point of him being around at all because she was his best friend. She shone like the sun while he lurked in the shadows. Even as his civilian counterpart, he didn’t have anyone who saw the real him.

The only time he could really be himself was when he was Chat. But he wasn’t the black cat anymore, and the only person who’d really brought out who he was wasn’t there.

He tugged at the roots of his hair, clenching his jaw and resting his forehead against the cool wood of the sidebar. The music pounded in his ears, dulling the voice in his head that told him he was worthless, but not silencing it completely.

Sitting back up, he pushed the glass back toward the bartender.

“Another.”

…

Four? Five? Maybe six, shots later and Adrien could barely walk.

Hell, he could barely see a few feet in front of him.

And that was just fine for him.

He snickered to himself as he managed to keep his shit together long enough to clear his tab and get out the front door after last call without the bartender catching on to how drunk he was.

It wasn’t easy.

Why hadn’t he done this before? He’d been legal for three years and hadn’t been into one since his eighteenth birthday with Nino.

Nino…

Adrien’s heart sank. He hadn’t talked to his best friend in months. He wasn’t even sure whether the DJ _was_ his friend anymore. He’d rejected so many invitations, ignored so many calls and texts he wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d decided to just stop trying.

_I mean…I probably would’ve._

Alya had dropped by a few months after Hawkmoth’s defeat to knock some sense into him. He’d listened briefly without commenting until she got so fed up she left.

He didn’t deserve to have them in his life. Not after what his father had done to them, and not when the possibility of him not being sentenced was on the line.

Until he was behind bars, it was too dangerous.

He should’ve been in witness protection since the police didn’t know what connections his father had—if any—and if he’d use any of them to try and get back at his son. But as far as Adrien knew, Gabriel had no idea that Adrien was Chat, and with Ladybug dead there was nobody for him to target.

That didn’t stop Nathalie and the Gorilla from insisting that he be watched around the clock until his father’s trial.

Which was when again exactly? Today? Or Tomorrow? Today today? Like this current twenty-four hour period that he was currently in despite it being so early? Or tomorrow like the day after he killed his partner?

He wasn’t sure.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and turned the thing back on.

_106 missed texts. 40 missed calls. 5 voicemail(s)._

What the actual fuck?

Adrien blinked. Maybe the liquor really _did_ having him seeing double. There was no way in the span of an hour and a half Nathalie would get that worked up.

His phone rang again, and he answered it.

“—‘lo?” he mumbled.

“Adrien! Where the hell are you?”

The blond blinked and looked around. The street lamps around him had their lights off, and whereas before when he was Chat more frequently he had decent night vision, he had absolutely no idea where the hell he was since he couldn’t see a single street sign and the walks were deserted.

“Nah sure,” he slurred, stumbling into a nearby brick building. He braced himself against it with his left hand and held the phone in his right, suppressing another snicker.

If Nathalie saw him right now, she’d kill him.

“Are you _drunk?_ ”

Whoops.

“Busteeed,” he singsonged. “Aren’t I positively _claw_ ful?”

He heard Nathalie sigh on the other end of the phone, “Oh, Adrien.”

Rain pittered on his head and skin, and suddenly the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest from the alcohol was gone.

The ache was back.

Adrien removed his hand from the wall to press to his sternum. Without the brace he found himself falling into the building, giving his head a good whack.

 _Ow_.

“Adrien, you know you have to give a statement later today, right?” Nathalie’s business tone was back. Her moments of genuine concern were very rarely evident in her voice, they were mostly seen through her actions. 

“Dun wanna,” he grumbled, beating his fist against the center of his chest. Why the hell wouldn’t it go away. Go. Away.

“They’d agreed to do it before the trial so you can privately give a statement as Chat Noir. If you miss this, there is a larger chance of him going to a full on trial instead of being sentenced today.”

Adrien knew this.

“Why the hell did they have to make it _today_ of all days,” he snarled. Putting one foot in front of the other, he kept shuffling his way down the street. With any luck he’d make it home _without_ passing out somewhere.

Though at this point he didn’t really know if he cared.

“I don’t know, Adrien,” she sighed, “all I know is you need to be home, up, and ready to go in less than eight hours. Now where are you?”

Adrien laughed, “Dancing between the lines of life and death.”

Silence.

“Adrien, that’s not funny.”

The blond snickered into the phone.

“Where are you, Adrien?” she asked again, this time with more worry evident in her voice.

“I dunno,” he muttered. “But I don’t care.”

“If you don’t tell me, then—”

“Then what?” he snarled, “What can you possibly do that’s worse than what’s already happened to me?”

“Adrien—”

“I’ll find my own way home.”

“Adrie—”

He didn’t listen.

Turning to the nearest alley, the blond whipped the phone into the dark. He barely heard it shatter over the sound of his heavy breathing.

“Goddammit.”

He fell to his knees, pulling at the roots of his hair and nearly ripping the long locks from his scalp. His body failed him as his stomach churned and he did his best to swallow the bile that rose in the back of his throat. His heart was already burning, he didn’t need to be in any more pain.

His head was pounding.

He heard the car coming before he saw the lights, and his heart leapt in his chest at a flash of raven hair.

_Ladybug?_

No.

Her silhouette looks just like hers. The hair colour is just like hers. The way she moves looks just like her. Or was that just his mind playing tricks on him?

“So this is what you’re doing instead of that photoshoot tomorrow? Drinking yourself into the ground?”

Adrien glowered, “What’re you doing here?”

Bright blue eyes bore into his as she knelt in front of him and he has to look away. With every glance in her direction, the hole in his chest would only grow and it would become even harder for him not to scream.

“Despite the fact that you hate me, Adrien,” she sighed, “I care about you and I’m not about to leave you out on the streets when you’re drunk.”

The blond snorted, “Nathalie tell you to come find me?”

She woman shook her head, “No. She called asking if I knew where you were and I’ve been out looking around ever since.”

Adrien once again dug his fingers into the dull ache at the base of his throat. She’d been out looking for him.

“Why?” he asked, finally managing to look back up at her.

He’d never treated her well. She was his personal stylist and designer, sure, and she was brilliant at what she did, but he avoided her every chance he got. He would walk away if she looked like she was coming in his direction, he wouldn’t answer the phone so he didn’t have to hear her voice. She was like the ghost of his greatest failure, haunting him wherever he went.

Maybe he deserved it.

She didn’t answer.

“Come on, Adrien,” she said softly, standing. She offered him her hands, palm up, and after a few moments he gripped her arms just below the elbow joint for extra leverage. She helped him up and directed his stumbling figure to the passengers side of her car.

Once again he found himself in a state of déjà vu, and once again he had to remind himself that no. This was not his lady and it wasn’t fair of him to project this onto her.

Marinette.

…

She helped him into his room and sat him down on his bed. It was weird since he hadn’t really been alone with her like this since the times he’d come check on her as Chat.

He’d nearly forgotten that she was his Princess.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, as she set up his pillows at the head of his bed.

She turned to him with a raised brow, “For what?”

He shook his head, “For treating you how I do.”

Marinette swallowed and sighed, coming to kneel in front of him. The small smile that crossed her features reminded him of a time they’d spent together in her room after a night where he was on patrol. 

He’d been distraught over something that had happened with his father earlier, and unconsciously found himself moving in the direction of the bakery. He didn’t even notice where we was going until he’d landed on her roof and she’d come up to see what had made the sound.

She was confused at first, asking what he was doing there, but upon seeing his face she’d smiled the way she was now and pulled him inside for a snack.

She hadn’t asked him any questions, and she hadn’t needed to. Just being around her and knowing she understood he’d been in pain was enough. 

Like right now.

He had no idea what it was that had possessed him, but he found himself cupping the back of her neck and descending his lips to hers.

She was so sweet.

He felt her stiffen briefly as he began to kiss her slowly. His cheeks were tickled by her eyelashes fluttering closed as she began to respond, clutching at the front of his shirt with a tight fist. If the contact alone hadn’t wired his nerve endings with addictive pleasure, the small whimper that escaped her as he nibbled on her lower lip did.

His other hand made its way to her hip, gripping at the flesh there that had been exposed by her reaching up, and soon enough he’d hoisted her up by her thighs to straddle him.

.

His fingers trailed up and down her sides, making her shudder and setting her skin on fire. She couldn’t believe that this was happening. She knew it was wrong. He was in a ridiculous amount of pain, and he didn’t mean this, but there was a part of her that had wanted this for so long.

Chat flashed into her mind.

She flinched and broke away from the kiss, panting hard, shaking her head slightly to clear that thought away. Adrien’s lips just found her neck, the stubble scraping at her jaw as he mouthed, licked, sucked on, and sunk his teeth in to the sensitive bits of flesh. Her heart ached as he did so and she knew they should stop.

But he felt so _good_.

With a small grumble from his chest,  she found herself on her back with Adrien’s arm wrapped around the small of her back. His mouth was hot against her skin as he nipped at her collarbone and kissed down the center of her chest.

She raked her nails up his sides to his shoulders, pulling the shirt over his head. They could barely see a thing, they could only feel—her core burned with need and her chest ached in agony.

Her nails dug into his shoulders as he kissed her again.

His hands were magic as they kneaded her ass, sides, ribs and breasts. She moaned into his mouth softly at the contact as she felt his muscles work beneath his skin.

It was only when he went to undo her shirt below her sternum that she snapped out of it.

No matter how good it felt…they couldn’t go there.

“Adrien,” she gasped, eyes rolling back in her head as he sucked at the base of her throat.

He hummed, and the vibrations only amplified the effect his proximity was having on her.

“Adrien, stop,” she said a little louder, fingers pulling at his hair.

That only elicited a slight growl from him.

“Adrien…” he pulled open another button.

It was like she’d been splashed with a bucket of cold ice water, and she used the mental clarity to push him off and away from her. Breathing, hard, Marinette did her best to button up her shirt. The top two had somehow disappeared, but luckily enough she was covered below the bust.

“We can’t,” she whispered.

.

Adrien shook his head to snap out of his drunken lust-filled daze. What the hell was he doing?

“Fuck, Marinette. I’m so sorry,” he choked. “I didn’t…I don't know…I…”

Light from the moon streamed in, illuminating the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. He kicked himself. How could he have done that to her? Damn the fact that he was drunk, that was no excuse to hurt the sweetest person in his life who still put up with him despite the shit she went through.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, reaching for him.

He reeled back, biting the inside of his cheek. He didn’t trust himself. Not again.

“Adrien,” she said softly, fingers brushing the hair from his eyes.

He broke.

Marinette’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him to her chest. Her skin was so soft against his forehead as her fingers ran through his hair. He hadn’t done anything with it in a year, so it hung almost down to his shoulders now and easily got knotted. 

He was so selfish.

He gripped at her back as he cried into her chest in mourning.

“It’s okay,” she mumbled, lips to the top of his head. “It’s going to be okay.”

He shook his head, “It’s all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault that this happened with your father,” she said softly, hugging him closer.

That wasn’t what he was talking about.

Though it would be a lie if he said he didn’t feel like that was partially his fault too.

They stayed like this for awhile. Adrien in her arms with his own wrapped around her waist until he had no more tears left. Whether it was the alcohol, lack of sleep, or the emotions running rampant, he was exhausted.

Pulling away, he fumbled around for his shirt.

“What’re you doing?” Marinette asked gently.

“Looking for my shirt,” Adrien answered, voice raw. He scratched at his cheeks as he thought about where the hell the thing had gone. It wasn’t appropriate for him to be like this in the presence of a woman, especially one he truly cared for.

Even though she didn’t really seem to know it.

“I don’t hate you, you know.”

He heard rather than saw her head snap up in his direction, and could practically see the look of confusion on her face. “What?”

Adrien found her hand and weaved his fingers through hers.

“I don’t hate you, Marinette. I’m so sorry that I’ve made you feel that way.”

She squeezed his hand with hers.

“I forgive you.”

He shook his head, “Why would you forgive me? I’ve treated you like crap for months.”

She pulled her hand away and moved in the direction of his bedside table. Hard plastic from various cords clicked against the wood as she moved around.

“Because you’re my friend and you’re in pain,” she told him, still fumbling around. It was only then that Adrien realized what she was doing.

She was looking for the light switch.

He scrambled to his feet, lunging toward her, “Marinette don’t—”

_Click._

_Shit._

He froze as her eyes met his, a small smirk playing across her face as if to ask ‘why’ before her gaze drifted downward to his chest and the large gash he knew was there. He watched her as she took in the sight, tears filling her eyes.

“Adrien…wha..?”

He stayed silent.

He watched as she stood from her seat on his bed, taking a few steps toward him. She tentatively reaches forward, fingertips resting lightly on the faded silver tissue. A swordsman had made a quick lunge at his Lady once when she’d been distracted by a civilian in distress and Chat had shielded her.

Just because his suit more often than not tended to repair itself within minutes, didn’t mean he was unscathed once he got out of costume. He’d learned that the hard way the first few times he’d shielded his Lady, but he honestly didn’t care.

If she was safe, he was happy and that’s all that mattered to him.

There was a fist sized chunk of marred flesh on the bottom right side of his torso that she was now focused on. A blacksmith had had his workshop ransacked by some kids and wanted revenge, swinging a white hot branding iron around. That had been a really nasty one to take care of since bits of his suit had embedded themselves into his skin itself.

Plagg had abandoned his usually catty—yes, pun intended this time—attitude and tried to help him before settling with dragging his sorry ass to Master Fu’s.

That had been an interesting experience.

Adrien hadn’t noticed Marinette had made her way around to his side until she was running her thumbs along the broken line marks circling the front and back of his right shoulder.

That had been the one when they knew Hawkmoth was getting relentless and more vicious. He’d possessed a bear hunter who restrained his victims with various kinds of traps. A sharp-toothed trap had hurdled its way toward Ladybug and he didn't think twice about shoving her out of the way as it closed around his shoulder. He’d used Cataclysm to disintegrate it and it wasn’t long after that his suit weaved back together.

He’d still heard an earful from Ladybug about it. She nearly cried that time and begged him to stop, absolutely furious when he told her he couldn’t because it was his job to protect her.

They fought about that a lot.

He stiffened when she moved around to the base of his neck and shuddered.

Two thin scars decorated either side of his spine from the nape to his tailbone. They’d been made with a scalpel so they were clean, but they’d been deep.

Really deep.

He’d gotten knocked out by a surgeon who’d been wrongfully charged with a malpractice lawsuit and woken up half naked strapped to a table on his stomach. With each time he refused to tell them where Ladybug was or how to get to her, the incision the surgeon made would get longer.

He’d nearly passed out when Ladybug had finally gotten there, destroying the scalpel and purifying the butterfly.

He didn’t remember what had happened with her, but the next thing he remembered he’d woken up in Marinette’s room, already patched and zipped back up. When he’d asked Marinette what happened, she explained Ladybug had dropped him off and asked if she could let him stay here for a bit while he recovered from the most recent akuma attack.

She’d agreed.

Her fingers ran down the length of his spine before running over a patch of raised skin on the lower left part of his hip.

That one looked like an angry red spiderweb that spread out and encompassed nearly a quarter of his lower back area. His blood had literally boiled beneath the skin from an electrical attack. It was a miracle that it hadn’t left more of a scar down his leg. The only other area that was affected was the bottom of his left foot.

She was in front of him now, grabbing at his hands and turning them palm up. Deep gashes broke the lines of his palm print from a large serrated bar that had almost sliced his Lady in half. He’d gotten to her just in time, standing over her, holding up the bar with both hands at first, and then one as he used his cataclysm to break the whole contraption and set her free.

She pulled his arm up and over his head to expose his right ribs and the scar that was there. She shamelessly tugged his jeans low to see the large gash that ran perpendicular to the ‘v’ line of his groin. And finally, she brushed his hair back from his forehead to trace a finger along the last scar he’d even gotten as Chat just above his right eyebrow.

She wasn’t just taking in the scars he’d already gotten anymore.

She was _looking_ for them.

“Adrien…where did you get these?”

His gaze hardened, “That’s none of your business.”

Marinette flinched slightly before taking a deep breath and stepping forward, “You’ve been hiding these from me for months now. What happened to you?”

Spotting his shirt, Adrien snatched it from the floor and pulled it over his head, “Again, Marinette. That’s none of your business.”

“Of course it’s my business, Adrien. You’re my—”

“Model. That’s all.”

She looked dumbstruck, and he hurt to see what he’d just done with those words, but it was the only way to protect her. She needed to be kept in the dark.

He watched as her eyes pricked with tears. Her lip quivered as she brought up a closed fist to her mouth, suppressing an audible whimper.

If it was even possible, he kicked himself even harder.

“Please, tell me,” she whispered.

Adrien’s jaw clenched. He went to shake his head—

“Please, tell me that I’ve found you, Kitty.”

Adrien froze.

Kitty.

The only person who ever called him that was…

He swallowed and nearly snarled, “Did Nathalie put you up to this?”

Taken aback, Marinette’s eyes widened. “Put me up to what?”

Adrien shook his head, nose crinkling as he resisted screaming, “To _fucking_ with me like this. It may be her own way of trying to help me, but it’s not—”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she muttered, taking a step toward him. 

She was dead. His Lady was dead. There was no way she survived. Her heart had stopped beating and she’d disappeared for a year. Nathalie _had_ to be trying to manipulate him into feeling better with someone who looked just like his love.

Right?

Her hand stretched to cup his cheek and he shivered beneath her touch.

“The only person who knows what she used to call me, was—”

“Was Ladybug,” she whispered.

The tears that had pooled in her eyes fell down her cheeks as she stepped closer to him.

“Chat?”

His body went numb.

_Chat._

Adrien shook his head. This can’t be real, she can’t be real. Even if she was standing in front of him right now there was no way she was alive when he’d pressed an ear to her chest.

Except here now was Marinette, calling him a name only _she_ could possibly know about. Even with everything he’d told Nathalie in his moments where he needed to confide in someone, he’d never told her that Ladybug had called him kitty.

And _mon chaton._

He let out a mix of a scoff and laugh as he stood before her, taking in each and every feature of her face. It couldn’t be.

The movement of Marinette’s hands to her shirt caught his eye as she started to undo her buttons. She had a hickey around her collarbone, her bra was black and lacy, her stomach—

Adrien’s heart leapt.

Right in the center of her torso, just above her bellybutton, was a patch of marred flesh. He watched as she turned around and lifted up the back of her shirt to show him the small exit wound just to the right of her spine.

Where Hawkmoth had impaled Ladybug.

Her.

She shyly came back around, trying and failing to do her buttons back up again as tears fell from her eyes. He could barely make out what she was mumbling under her breath, but he managed to catch most of it.

“Please, oh god please tell me it’s him. Please tell me I’ve found him. _Please._ ”

Swallowing, he managed to force out a question.

“My Lady?”

Her head snapped up, eyes brimming with fresh tears as a sob escaped her lips. Her knees buckled and he found himself hugging her to his chest to keep her from falling. His heart beat frantically as his arms wrapped around her, faintly registering her hands coming up to grip at his shoulders.

“ _Mon Chaton?_ ” she asked faintly. She was afraid, he could tell. She was just as terrified as he was that they were either dreaming, or had been trying so hard to find each other that they’d settle for anything that could even slightly resemble their partner.

“Princess.”

Marinette choked and went silent before her shoulders began to shake.

Her nails dug into his skin as she bit his shoulder, muffling the wails that escaped her mouth as they clung to each other. His own arms secured her to his chest to the point he was surprised she wasn’t protesting. He was sure he was crushing her.

Picking her up, he faintly registered her legs wrapping around his waist before he sat down, burying his face in her shoulder. She smelled like sugar and yeast despite how much time she spent in the mansion working alongside Nathalie.

“You were dead,” he croaked, failing to once again hold back tears as he pressed his forehead into her neck. “I heard your heart stop.”

“Tikki,” she started, “my kwami, severed our contract to save my life.”

And in that moment, Adrien didn’t care that she was coiled so tightly around him he could barely breathe. He didn't care that his shirt was slowly getting soaked with her tears. He didn’t care that the inside of his mouth tasted like blood from how hard he was biting his cheek, and he didn't care that he sounded like a blubbering idiot.

She was here. She was warm.

She. Wasn’t. Dead.

A choked sob escaped his lips as he clung to her tightly, digging his fingers into her, hard. He half expected her to throw him off of her again, but she didn’t.

She only coiled tighter.

“I should’ve—” he croaked, trying to form a sentence, “I should’ve—I could’ve—if I hadn’t—”

He felt her move slightly from his spot in her neck.

“No. You did everything right, Kitty,” she said softly. “He just caught us off guard.”

He shook his head, “If only—”

“No ifs,” she said sternly, pulling back to force his gaze to meet hers. “No ifs. What’s happened has happened and we deal with it as it comes.”

His grip loosened on her waist, hands coming up to cradle her cheeks.

He couldn't believe it.

“How could I not have known it was you?” he whispered incredulously.

Marinette leaned into his palm, eyes closing, “We become blind when in love or when distraught with grief.”

“Double whammy then, huh?” he joked. 

She peeked through her lashes at him, a small smile on her face as she giggled.

Music to his ears.

He let his gaze roam all over her face, memorizing every detail he could find. The little flecks of brown in her eyes. The direction of each individual lash. The shape of her eyebrows—that he never got to see when she was Ladybug—and the straight bridge of her nose. The freckles that dusted over that bridge and onto her upper cheeks. The faint hallow of her high cheekbones, and the lines of her pink plump lips.

He was thinking about how she’d tasted, when he found himself on fire again.

She was kissing him.

This time was entirely different.

Her hands came up to rest on his cheeks as she melded her lips to his again and again. Upper, lower, corner, together. Her grip tightened and he felt her thighs tighten around his sides as she let out a small laugh.

She rested her forehead against his, and he opened his eyes to see her smiling.

“I lost you,” he said softly, looking down. “I don’t know if I could ever do that again…I can’t…I…”

She silenced him by kissing him chastely.

“You won’t, _Chaton_ ,” she whispered, pulling him close again. “I finally found you. There’s no way I’m ever letting you go.”

Her arms tightened around him.

“Okay?”

He nodded against her neck.

_Okay._

_…_

He’d pulled her shirt over her head, and she’d done the same for his. He’d pulled off her bra and relished in the soft skin of her stomach and breasts. The moans he’d elicited from her had only fuelled his desire for her and made his pants uncomfortably tight.

Her nails had raked up and down his back, the warped nerves only amplifying the shocks of desire that pulsed through his system. She’d moaned when he ground against her core and dug into his shoulders. His mouth had stayed with hers, drinking in every sound he could get out of her.

But he’d still had alcohol in his system, so as much as he’d wanted to continue, they’d stopped.

His Princess…his Lady deserved so much more than that.

Waking up with her warm skin against his was the first time in months he hadn’t woken up screaming, or with his heart racing in fear and guilt.

It hadn’t been a dream.

She was here.

Burying his face in her hair, Adrien relaxed in her arms, securing himself around her once again.

“I fell in love with Chat.”

Adrien blinked.

Pulling back to look at her, Marinette was blushing deeply. Her eyes were heavy with sleep as she yawned, avoiding his gaze.

“When he…you would come over, it was confusing. The more time we spent together, the more I’d develop feelings for Chat you. I tried to ignore them because I was so dedicated to Adrien you, I didn’t want to feel like I was being dishonest…” she mumbled.

Adrien couldn’t believe his ears.

“It was only after I’d lost Tikki and couldn’t find you that it hit me.” She looked up at him, “That I was in love with both of you.”

Her eyes glazed over as a hand came up to rest on his cheek. “And you’re—” her voice cracked, “you’re…the same person.”

She breathed out as a breathtaking smile crossed her face, “I’m so happy, Adrien. Mon Chaton. Thank you. Thank you so much for letting me love you. For being who I fell in love with. Twice.”

Adrien was gobsmacked. It took a minute for him to register what the love of his life had just said to him.

He shook his head.

“No, My Lady,” he whispered, “ _I_ should be thanking _you_.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, “Why? You’ve been in love with Ladybug forever.”

He shook his head again.

“Like you, I too fell in love with you twice,” he laughed softly, resting his forehead against hers.

“Really?” her voice raised in pitch. “But—”

“No buts,” he told her, pulling her close.

The two stayed silent for a few moments before Adrien muttered something Marinette couldn’t quite make out.

“What did you say?” she asked, pulling back to see his face.

“Thank you,” he said huskily, a genuine smile crossing his features.

“For what?” She cocked her head to one side.

“For finding me.”

Marinette giggled and pressed a kiss to the column of his throat, and for the first time in a year…

He purred.

**Author's Note:**

> You guys can find me on:
> 
> Tumblr - http://x-benihime.tumblr.com  
> FanFiction - https://www.fanfiction.net/u/7610579/


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